Meeting in a late summer evening
by TheNightsWithSalem
Summary: In a stormy evening, Dagran is wandering around in solitude with a foul mood, but when the weather forces him to return with the others, he meets a strange woman in an alley... (this story take place about two years and half before the game)
1. In the rain

**Mirrored from my DeviantArt account. In the next day I'll translate the second part too.**

* * *

 **In the rain**

Dagran stopped to observe the sky getting darker. Storm clouds were quickly choking the little light left before sunset. It was just time to go back.

He had wandered all that late summer day in complete solitude, as it was his habit to do at that time of year. Zael and Lowell were aware for a long time about his need of insulation, so it wouldn't be a problem for them to explain it to Syrenne and Yurick.

It was his way of paying tribute to his fallen comrades, died five years earlier, during the only, real defeat in their mercenaries' life. When that time came, the remembrance of their demise was more painful and he became intractable. That's why he took a day or two for himself, letting Zael and the others to have a good time, gain permitting. It seemed like every time arrived faster than the previous one to Dagran, but lately the work had gone better than expected, so he could leave the others without problems.

Before continuing on his way back, he pulled out from under the shirt the pendant he wore around his neck, a rectangular metal plate with a missing corner. As the ornamental feather tied to his hair, that too was a memory of a lost love.

His soul mate, Celes.

He gripped it angrily, thinking about all that it had been torn in his life, and he repeated to himself the oath he had made as a child, when he left his village in flames, as the only survivor.

He gave one last look at the pendant before placing it back in its place, then he hurried to the street, hoping that the rain expected his return at the Inn before starting to fall.

Needless to say, after a few steps, a wall of water swept over him.

Luckily, he brought the cape, along with a collection of local epithets that he repeated softly, addressing them to each and every single cloud over his head.

After running for a few minutes, he arrived at the city gates. Behind the clouds, the sun was now gone and only the lightning lit up the street. The guard on duty at the gate had let him pass without problems and he also suggested to him a road to reach the Inn bathing as little as possible. Dagran appreciated the advice, though on balance it was useless now: the cape he wore was fine to cover saddlebags and weapons, but it was too small for a man of nearly two metres as he, and in fact he had arrived in town half soaked.

He left reluctantly the shelter of the gate and he walked down the streets of the city, following the route suggested by the guard. Apart from him, there was no one else in the street. It was better this way.

While hastening to go back to the Inn, he mused about how to use his part of the profits of the last job. Room and board were in place, since they had paid in advance at the Inn, and even their weapons were still in good condition. He had considered the idea of visiting the brothel on the other side of the city to have some fun with a couple of their ladies, but the torrential rain that was cutting down on his head suggested that perhaps it was better to think to a renewal of his small wardrobe first, starting with a cloak itself.

He was thinking about a way to organize the expenses and being able to do both, when a carriage from a side street nearly swept him.

«Get out of the street, you ragamuffin!» shouted the coachman. Actually, there was more than enough space in the street for the carriage to pass freely, but the coachman had prodded the horses to go on straight to Dagran.

The mercenary jumped sideways and the carriage whizzed next to him, passing on a huge puddle and soaking Dagran for whole.

Between the water and the mud which oozed out on him, he had noticed two things: the smug grin on the face of the coachman and the indifference of the passengers behind the window of the carriage; two noblewomen all bejewelled and a middle-aged man, dressed in layers of fur, silk and other fabrics certainly expensive, which gave the impression that he had never made a physical effort other than take a fork to his mouth. For what little he was able to discern, the three had not shown any interest in what was going on outside the carriage, in fact it was likely that if the coach had invested him, they complained of possible damages that _he_ would have gotten in their way!

That glimpse of aristocracy moved away, leaving him in the middle of the slush and Dagran was left with nothing to do but take off all the dirt he could and return to the Inn more sodden and furious than before.

 _What a shitty life!_

He went down the road he had left cursing all the nobles and rich people and their privileged lives. That was certainly not the best way to commemorate his fallen comrades, but for that time it was going so.

He was now in sight of the Inn, the entrance lit by one of the few street lights that characterized the city centre, when a strange sound attracted his attention.

He heard some thuds from a shady alley next to him, followed by a hushed growl. Before the mercenary could wonder what would cause that noise, a crash of broken wood echoed by the way.

A person with an ounce of common sense would have moved away from there and would search for a guard, but the foul mood of Dagran that night made him anything but sensible – not to mention his impulsive nature – and so, ready to draw his sword and with a great desire to come to blouse, he slipped into the alley.

At first he saw nothing because of the darkness and the rain, then his eyes became accustomed and he noticed a shape on the ground. It was a woman. She fell and bumped into some old empty crates, causing them to collapse to the ground.

While he approached, the snarl rang out again into the alley. Dagran wielded the sword and prepared to ease it out of its sheath, ready to react. It was very close and yet there was nothing in the alley besides him and the woman on the ground, and rain and lightning distorted sounds, preventing him to understand its origin.

 _Whatever it is, it's better if I deal with her first, then I'll try to alert the guards._

He left for a moment the sword and knelt beside the woman, casting glances all around to make sure that that thing doesn't take him by surprise.

The woman at his feet was a little younger than him and was wearing just a simple grey tunic drenched by rain and a pair of boots that had seen better days. Long black hair covered her face, topped by a large white flower that seemed to resist effortlessly to the pouring rain. When Dagran tried to remove a lock to see her better, she stirred and lifted her face toward him. At least he was certain that she was alive.

A pair of grey eyes stared at him vacuous, but he took no notice, too intrigued by the signs that were above them: eight azure points that formed a circle in the centre of her forehead.

As he watched her, she tried to pull herself up, but she ended up tumbling back to the ground. He heard her mutter something without understanding what she said.

«Don't worry» he said while he moved to help her «I don't want to hurt you, I'm just trying to help. Look, I'm at the Inn over there. I'll take you there so you can warm up and tell me... Hey! What the hell are you doing?»

The woman had crawled toward him as he spoke and without notice she sprang forward and had sunk her teeth into his boot. Dagran lurched back to get free by her powerful grip and gave her a shove away. The woman swung indifferent and spoke again, and this time Dagran understood what she said.

«Food» her voice was distraught.

«Uh, okay. I can get you something to eat and...»

«Hungry!»

The woman attacked again, and this time it was at the expense of the right arm of the mercenary, stood up to defend himself. Due to rain and some residue of mud from the encounter with the carriage, Dagran broke free with a tug without losing a piece of flesh, but in doing so he lost his balance and fell back on the wet stones of the street. The woman was soon upon him.

«Food!»

She was a crazy possessed person.

Dagran was at a disadvantage: both his swords – the one he used for fights and the ceremonial one – were locked beneath him and even if they were free, she was too close so he couldn't stand on them and use them properly. The thing however was not important, because his punches were more than enough. He prepared to launching an offensive punch as soon as she attempted another attack, so much for gallantry. She moved, he was ready, but before he could do anything, the fight was already over.

The woman, straight on him, staggered for a moment and shortly after she collapsed half unconscious on him with a gasp. Despite being slender and much smaller than him, her weight was such to leave the mercenary breathless.

The two stayed still for a while, then, seeing that the woman didn't move, Dagran pulled out and shook her off. He considered the idea of abandoning her there in the rain.

 _I try to help her and she bites me as if I was a steak?!_

In the end, however, he decided to take her to the Inn. It didn't seem fair to him to leave her at the mercy of the snarling thing hidden in the alley… or leave _her_ free to assault someone else, mistaking him or her for a meal.

«At least there will be a danger in less around the streets» Dagran muttered to himself.

She seemed conscious enough to be guided in her footsteps without risking other bites, so he passed an arm around her waist, encouraged her to reciprocate the close and trying to cover her by rain as he could, even though they were both already soaked, Dagran led her to the entrance of the Inn.


	2. Helping each other

**Helping each other**

The hall of the Inn was packed with people, as it was predictable with a weather like that. Dagran strengthened his grip on the woman as best he could and from the threshold he began to make his way into the crowd. As they passed among the tables all taken, dodging the legs of seated customers and waitresses with their trays, he wondered which was the best way to solve the problem in his arms. He could ask to the landlady and her regular customers, to see if anyone recognized the woman with him. But what if no one had recognized her? And what if in the meantime she woke up and tried to bite someone else? Better think before to that possibility and then to her identity.

 _I'll take her in our room, so if she attacks me again I can knock her down with no problems. Of course, if there were the others too would be better..._

At that very moment he noted Lowell sat at the counter, who was enjoying a beer and to prevent a few waitresses to carry out their tasks. Certainly he was covering them with mawkish flattery as usual. When Dagran was closer though, he realized that he was wrong: the Mage was telling one of his adventures around the world, using his powers to create puppets of ice which replied the interesting parts of the story. If Dagran didn't mistake, Lowell was telling about the defense of Fort Redwall from the horde of Streaked Reptid, when they had met for the first time, and his audience was enjoying it, judging by the faces of the people around there. Dagran was sorry to spoil his show, but at that moment he needed him, so he went around and with a cough he caught his eye. When he saw him, Lowell gave him his usual cheerful smile.

"Hey boss. I didn't think you'd come back during the day, but given the bad weather it's not a surprise" he said. Then the Mage noticed the woman in his arms and his voice took on a sly tinge. "Oh, you brought some company! Would you like some advice from the master to make the evening?" A couple of men tittered at those words, while the waitresses lifted their eyes with mock disapproval.

Dagran was about to tell him he didn't need advice when it came to deal with a woman under the sheets, but at that moment the woman lurched and she nearly slid away from his grip.

"What's wrong with her? Not feeling well?" asked Lowell worried. All traces of mischief was gone.

"I found her in an alley nearby" Dagran explained hurriedly "I'll tell you everything later, but I need your help now."

The Mage nodded, then he turned to his audience with a sad face. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sorry, but you have heard the boss: duty calls! Anyway, don't worry, we will finish the story later."

With a gesture he made to evaporate the ice figures, then he leaned toward one of the waitresses and asked her to bring to their room a dish suitable for an ill person. Once everything was set up, the two men walked away from the counter, and while the other helped him to hold the woman all the way, Dagran told Lowell how he found her.

"Mmh... I haven't heard of beasts or suspected assaults in the area" Lowell said as they climbed the stairs "We better check again, before sow panic for nothing. As for her, she is likely to be only a maiden who remained too long on an empty stomach. She seems harmless..."

"Harmless? Tell that to my arm and my boot: if she had bitten harder, by now I would be bleeding out down the street!"

"Come on, don't be so grumpy. It's obvious that she's just a damsel in distress, then settle down."

"You make it look easy! Then if when she wakes up she exchanges you too for a steak, don't say I didn't warn you" snorted Dagran.

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time I've been bitten by a woman, though certainly this would be less pleasant of previous ones" chuckled Lowell, then he studied the woman among them "I'd like to know who she is. Who knows, maybe she's a noble lady who has just escaped from a gang of kidnappers, and discovering that you brought her safe instead of leaving her in the street at the mercy of the elements, she could cover us money as a reward!"

Dagran gave him a skeptical glance. At that point the Mage sighed.

"Or maybe she's as dangerous as you think, and then we knock her down and then we call the guards. But in the meantime let us help her to the fullest."

Dagran had nothing to object on that. In fact, he wanted to learn more about her, besides Lowell could be right: maybe she had attacked him only because she was plagued by hallucinations because of hunger or of some trauma.

Once they reached the top of the stairs, they went in a corridor and walked in half, up to their room. Once inside, Lowell took charge of the lamps and fireplace while Dagran arranged the woman on a chair near the fire. When all was ready, a pleasant warmth began to spread through the room.

"And this is done" said the Mage "Now it's better if we give her some dry clothes… and to you too" he added hearing Dagran sneeze. Too bad that the clothes he wore were the only that remained to him. Aware of this, Lowell offered him some of his. Dagran appreciated the offer of the friend but unfortunately, while having a similar physique, the difference in height between the two meant that Lowell's clothes were all too short, too tight or both. The only thing almost in his size was an old blue shirt that was missing several buttons; for pants, knowing that he could not have as much luck, Dagran contented himself for the first couple that he happened to throw on the dresser. Meanwhile, Lowell had already pulled out a white shirt, black pants and an old blanket for their guest.

"This stuff will be very wide on her, but until Syrenne gets back I don't want to risk to be caught again with the hands in her things: one was more than enough, and she not even let me explain!"

As he undressed, Dagran chuckled remembering that episode: Lowell was almost unrecognizable after the punishment of their warrior friend!

After he dried and begun to wear his friend's clothes, the waitress knocked on the door and handed the Mage a tray with a bowl of vegetable soup with an appetizing aroma. The friend did not have time to put everything on the table that their guest roused herself from her torpor.

"What… where am I?" she asked looking around. Her voice was now resolute, not like in the alley.

"You're at the Tenth Door Inn. Don't worry: you are safe here with us," Lowell said with a coaxing voice. The woman, however, didn't seem so sure, in fact her doubtfully look kept on going by the Mage, who smiled with excessive conviction, to Dagran, which was still bare-chested.

"I found you half passed out in the alley down here" interjected Dagran putting on the shirt.

"Ah yes, I remember being there" the woman said. Suddenly she began to sniff the air, almost like a wild animal. Dagran ignored that strange behavior and continued:

"You were lucky that I was near the alley. There was some kind of beast that was about to assault you."

"A beast?"

"Yes. It wouldn't stop growling, so I brought you here. I didn't see what it was; It was probably a stray dog, a big one."

"Oh. Thank you for the help, but I'm afraid there was no dog" she said. She seemed embarrassed and the two men were unable to understand why.

"Well, something was there for sure! Otherwise those growling from where...?"

At that moment, the same snarl he had heard on the street echoed in the room. Dagran and Lowell looked around bewildered, then their gaze returned back on the woman near the fireplace. She had a red face in shame and she clutched her hands on her stomach.

"I haven't eaten in two days," she murmured.

Dagran was stupefied: between jokes and sneers, both Zael and the others had often remarked to him that he became particularly "loud" when he was hungry, but he was certain that his stomach had never growled that way.

 _And here I thought it was a dog. Now I see why she tried to bite me!_

The two men exchanged glances. By now it was clear that the aggression in the alley was just an "accident". At that point, Lowell chuckled.

"She's even worse than you, boss! Well, at least we can remedy immediately" the Mage returned to the table, took the bowl of soup and the spoon and handed them to their guest.

"Here goes. It won't be a steak or something…" he stressed those words with a sneer towards Dagran, who huffed annoyed "...but since we weren't sure of your health, we've come up with something warm and easy to swallow."

For a while, it seemed to Dagran to see a dangerous glint in the eyes of the woman while she stared at the food that was offered to her. Regardless of the spoon, the woman took the bowl, she brought it to her lips and drank in three long gulps the whole soup, then she picked up with her fingers all the vegetable pieces left behind with ravenous accuracy. Perhaps hunger had taken over on the etiquette, but Dagran doubted that she was a noble woman. Once the bowl was cleaned, she asked if she could have more and Lowell nodded with a smile.

"Of course. Indeed, at this point I think it is appropriate to take on something more substantial. But in the meantime it is best if you put on something dry and warm" he said seeing her shiver. The Mage gave her the clothes and the blanket and went out from the room. Meanwhile Dagran took the panels screen placed beside the dresser and another towel and put them next to the fireplace so that she could change her clothes with a bit of privacy. Just at that moment he remembered that she was not Syrenne and that it could be uncomfortable for her to undress in the presence of a stranger.

"Now I leave you alone so you can change you in peace" he said turning towards the door, but she stopped him.

"That won't be necessary. These should be just fine" she said making a nod to the panels. At that point Dagran nodded and went to the table to wait. He turned the other way when he began to hear the rustling of wet clothes that she took off. Just a few minutes later the woman came out from behind the panels dressed with Lowell's clothes and a blanket draped over her shoulders.

"Thank you for rescuing me" said "and sorry if I bite you. Usually I behave in a more civilized way, but when I'm too hungry I lose reason."

"There is no problem, I understand all too well" Dagran said while he gathered their wet clothes and put them to dry by the fire along with the boots "The important thing is that now you can eat real food..."

"Mirania."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I have not yet presented. My name is Mirania."

"Ah. Well, I'm Dagran" he said handing her an hand, which she shook it gently. Now that she was dry and fully conscious, Dagran found himself thinking that she was very beautiful indeed ...especially now that her teeth were far away from his limbs. Shortly after Lowell went back into the room, announcing that dinner would come within fifteen minutes.

"The others should be back soon, so I asked to get it ready for everyone. Of course I did include large portions for you" concluded addressing Mirania.

"Thanks a lot, but I don't know how to repay you..."

"Nonsense, there's no need! And by the way, my name is Lowell."

After the presentations, the Mage explained her what they did for a living and then he told her some anecdotes of their lives as mercenaries. Dagran patiently listened to his friend while he avoided all the saddest details of their missions, and at the same time he studied Mirania, which gave the impression of being very interested with Lowell's stories. She didn't seem bothered at all to be alone with some mercenaries, and this was a good thing.

A buzz in the corridor announced the return of their missing comrades. The first to enter was Zael, while he was answering to a comment by Syrenne.

"It will mean that the next time we meet a Mage looking for assistants, we will change way!"

He greeted Lowell, then he noticed that the Mage wasn't alone in the room.

"Hey, Dagran! I didn't think I'd find you..." he stopped when he noticed Mirania. Soon after Syrenne and Yurick joined them.

"Looks like we have guests. Client or friend?" Syrenne said.

"Let me introduce Mirania. The boss has just rescued her a half hour ago" Lowell informed them before completing the presentations.

"Who knows what torment was to stay here and stand him and his chitchat" Syrenne said turning to Mirania "If they bothered you somehow, just say a word and I'll kick their asses!"

Mirania thanked her and assured her that there was no need.

"About need," Dagran said suddenly with an earnest tone "what are all those bandages?"

His companions were full of bandages, and he was sure that they hadn't them that morning when he had left the Inn. Even their clothes had some strange signs, similar to burns. Zael glanced at the other two before starting to explain hesitant:

"Well, when you left this morning, a guy came at the Inn, a Mage who needed assistants, and as someone had mentioned us to him, he asked us if we could help him with his experiments. The landlady knew him and spoke well of him, so we accepted, but ..."

"...that guy is a complete incompetent!" Yurick said testily "He blew up a bunch of test tubes filled with acid and poison and almost got us killed torching the house!"

"Anyway, thanks to Yurick we managed to limit damage" concluded Zael.

Dagran was speechless, and Lowell wasn't far behind.

"Come on, don't make those faces" Syrenne intervened "he paid in advance, and it's a lot of money! The only problem is that we have to go back tomorrow and after, and I'd rather avoid a second shower of acid..."

Dagran rubbed his eyes trying to remain calm. He had left them for half a day and they were likely to end up incinerated because of a bumbling Mage! Sure, it wasn't the first time that they accepted a job without telling him anything – Zael was his second, after all, and he found often better works than those that Dagran chose himself – and usually things went fine, but threaten to blow up in that way...

He drew a long sigh. The agitation he felt was undoubtedly due to the period, a kind of fear from back from the brink.

 _Come on, today I almost got hit by a carriage and Mirania nearly tore me to pieces! I've seen a lot worse, I shouldn't take it so badly._

Meanwhile, Lowell and Syrenne began to quarrel. The Mage rebuked them for not taking him with them, while the warrior threw in his face that if he hadn't been too busy to run after the waitresses he would have noticed that in fact they had tried to call him.

"Excuse me" Mirania said. For a moment they all forgot their guest "If the problem is the fact that you are wounded, I can handle it."

That said, she asked Yurick – which was the closest – to sit, then she began to mumble unintelligible words. The woman's hands began to shine with a white light, and when she touched Yurick's arm, the boy shuddered, then he widened the good eye with astonishment.

"You're an Healer!" he said. Taking off the bandages, the boy and the others saw that his wounds had disappeared without leaving any marks.

"Yes. I Study magic since I was little, even though my powers are not quite like those of other Mages."

When she finished with Yurick, she healed Zael and Syrenne too, and within few minutes the three injured mercenaries were back in top shape.

"Thanks a lot, Mirania! I've never felt so good!" Syrenne became elated and Lowell was trying in every way to calm her.

Dagran too was impressed: the woman had healed his friends in the blink of an eye. Such power was very helpful, especially for fighters, but usually the practitioners of that magic art preferred to work as personal physicians at the noble families, or at best they offered their services to armies. Mirania however didn't gave the impression of coming from some militia, and certainly her clothes were not the ones that a nobleman would have left to wear at his personal physician. Maybe she was an itinerant Healer.

 _An Healer as she could be really useful..._

Even Zael must have thought the same thing, in fact he approached him and the two men began whispering about her. After a quick exchange of views, they nodded in agreement, then Dagran approached the Healer.

"You have extraordinary capacities" he began.

"Thank you" she replied, and before Dagran could say anything more she said:

"May I ask you a favor?"

The mercenary looked at his companions. No one had any objections, so he let her go on.

"I suppose that with your work it happens often to you to visit new places, right? I'm traveling for a while and not always I happen to meet such nice people, especially at meal times, also it is inadvisable to walk around by yourself when you are hungry. Here's what I want to ask, maybe you'll find it inappropriate, but… can I join your group?"

Dagran remained baffled by the question and searched Zael, who was surprised as he is.

"I promise that I will not be a burden" continued the Healer "I can use magic to heal you and also to defend you, although in that branch I have to do some more practice. I will even learn to use the sword if necessary."

The answer was obvious, but were neither Dagran nor Zael to give it.

"Bloody hell, yes!" said Syrenne which encircles her back with one arm "I was just going to ask you the same thing. You'll see, we'll have fun together!"

"Apparently this is our lucky year: we've doubled our ranks, and even adding elements of my taste," said Lowell satisfied. Predictably, Yurick said nothing, but he didn't seem to have any objection. Dagran and Zael exchanged another look, and when the latter smiled, Dagran confirmed the verdict.

"It seems that we all agree, so… Welcome to the group, Mirania" he said " We will talk about the details during dinner, but first I would like to exchange a few words with you, if you don't mind. Sorry guys, I stole her for a couple of minutes" he added pointing to the rest of the group when Mirania agreed.

The two went out into the corridor and stood in front of the closed door.

"All right, it will not take too much time" he started "It is likely that someone has already put to eavesdrop, so I'm not going to ask you embarrassing questions: I'll keep them for when we're more familiar."

She giggled and invited him to continue.

"Okay, then I'll go straight to the point" he said leaning on the door "As you may have guessed, I'm the leader of the group and I'll tell you right now that I am really happy to welcome you. Actually I was going to ask you myself to join us, so I was a bit surprised when you've suggested it. Having regard to the circumstances, however, I would like to know if you are really sure. You are an Healer after all; with your powers you have heaps of opportunities more attractive and by far the safest of a mercenary's life, not counting the bad opinion that all have against people like us."

"Yes, I'm sure" Mirania confirmed "Like you said, my magic gives me many opportunities, and indeed I tried several times to exploit them, but in all honesty stand in the service of a noble or of an army is not for me. Too many restrictions and absurd rules to be respected. I couldn't move as I want and this would hamper my research..."

"Research? You are a scholar?"

"Not exactly. This is an old promise I made to my mother."

Mirania glanced away. A shadow had fallen across her face.

 _Another person with a sad past behind._

Dagran wanted to know more about this promise and the research involved, but given her expression he decided to leave it alone for now and give her a little credit.

"You don't need to explain it to me right now" he assured her "To know that we can help each other it's enough. Remember, however, that we have work to be done and that you'll have to do your research in your free time."

She turned back to look at him and then she nodded with a smile "I will do my best."

"I'm glad to hear it. In any case, we have plenty of free time more often than not, and if you need help, just ask. After all, our group is like a family, so..."

Not knowing what else to add, Dagran shrugged.

"I'll remember it" said Mirania satisfied. He lost to stare at her for a moment. She really had a beautiful smile. Shortly thereafter he roused himself.

"Uh, yes, now it's time to go back inside" he was ready to open the door, but stopped halfway, "If there is something you want to ask before returning with the other..."

"To be honest, there is one thing" she said after a brief pause.

"Come on, ask away."

"When do we eat?"


End file.
